


Shiro's Not a Ninja

by Stuff (rosegardenlake)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Life, One Shot, SHEITH - Freeform, awesome detective work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 00:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13224789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegardenlake/pseuds/Stuff
Summary: Shiro thinks he's being sneaky coming home at odd times, wearing a jacket three sizes too big for him, and randomly checking the garage.  Everyday.  Keith tries to find patience, but he knows his husband is definitely, for sureup to something.  And he's going to find out what it is.





	Shiro's Not a Ninja

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Ди for the [Russian translation!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7219748)

Everyone knew that Keith needed his yoga.  Everyday.  For at least an hour.  If he didn’t get it, he got very grouchy - worse than usual, which, as Lance said _all the time_ , was already pretty dang bad.  

Sometimes work just sucked and so did life, regardless of who stayed by your side or didn’t.  So, at Shiro’s request, he had cleaned out their spare bedroom to make enough space to roll out a mat and shove some blocks to the side.  And then one day, he came home to find Shiro had snuck in a bolster and straps just in case.  A week later, there was a peace lily.  It was the perfect yoga room, the best place to step into and unwind.

Keith and Shiro had been married for nearly five years now, the glinting wedding bands that fit snugly around their fingers proof of that, and he couldn’t be happier, he really couldn’t.  But he was still Keith.  Keith was fire and always would be.  No one was arguing with him, but he just needed the damn yoga.

His day at work had been particularly bad, so he kicked on the television, clicked madly through the programs until he found a longer meditative practice and let it run, planting himself at the front of his mat.

He was halfway through it, halfway healed, when he heard the front door slam shut loudly.  Shiro, who was gentle in everything he did, never slammed the door shut.  It was unusual, as was the dead silence that followed.  Keith waited for the usual call of “I’m home!”, but it didn’t come.

Keith was frowning through his crow’s pose as he heard Shiro shuffling down the hallway and past the door.

Seeing Keith, he stopped short, eyes growing almost as wide as his smile.  “Keith!  I didn’t know you’d be home this early.”

Keith just grunted, trying to balance his focus on holding the pose and also looking Shiro over.  He’d missed him.  It’d only been a few hours, but even still.  “Couldn’t take it anymore.  Started yelling at Lance.  It was upsetting everyone.”

“Ah, bad day?”  Shiro hummed sympathetically, shifting to his other foot.  It was cold outside, but he had a thick jacket on that looked a bit like overkill.  He was crossing his arms strangely and Keith wanted to ask about it, but he was determined to hold this ridiculous pose today for longer than yesterday and was going to do it, dammit.  No excuses.  

“Bad day,” Keith agreed, concentrating on easing into a variation.

“Bakasana, right?  You’re getting good at that.  Just like a pro.”

Keith gurgled.  “Come join me.”

“Maybe next time.”  Shiro chuckled fondly and patted the doorframe.  “I’ll leave you to it then.”  

Then he disappeared.

Keith sighed.  He always said that.  Some days, Shiro liked to sit in on Keith’s sessions if their schedules happened to sync up and watch, eyes bright and interested, but he rarely ever actually joined Keith.  Well, it didn’t kill Keith to ask.  Everytime.  One day, maybe he’d say yes.

Today was different though.  Keith knew Shiro too well to see that the brightness in his eyes didn’t quite match the stretch of his smile.  He was being weird.  The jacket, the coming home early, the clumsiness as he entered through the door.  And normally, he dropped his jacket on the back of the couch in the living room, just like Keith was always telling him _not to do_.  But he was wearing it through the hallway.

 _Suspicious_.

Keith lowered himself to the floor, toes touching as he rolled back onto his butt and shook out his wrists.  His eyes slid back to the empty door frame and then over at the video again.

The video was at the halfway mark and Keith knew if he stopped now, his temper would suffer, but Shiro had only just scampered off.  Maybe he could catch him.

He pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, thinking about it as the video ran in the background, but then shook his head.  He needed this hour or he’d take it out on Shiro, who never deserved it.  He could already see it playing out in his head, Keith yelling about something _stupid_.  Keith couldn’t let that happen.  Whatever Shiro was up to, Keith knew he could trust him. His curiosity raged though.

Shiro made dinner.  He hadn’t been the best chef when they had first moved in together, but Keith hadn’t really either.  They did what they could to survive, acquiring the necessary skills together as they always did, until their practice earned them the skills to actually enjoy the food, as they also always did.

Shiro was a good chef now and Keith was starving.  He wiped his sweaty bangs out of his face as he slid into his place at the table.  His heart tugged a bit as he saw what Shiro had decided on.  Keith loved spaghetti.  Shiro hated it.  And there it was, sitting on the dinner table.

Keith was so lucky.  He dug in immediately.

“God, Shiro,” he moaned around a mouthful.  “This is so good.  Thanks.”

Shiro just grinned as he watched Keith, eyes sparkling at the entertainment unfolding before him.  The nice thing about being married for five years was that Keith wasn’t embarrassed anymore.  He jammed another forkful of food into his mouth and smiled widely, cheeks big, and Shiro just laughed, totally endeared.  “You and your spaghetti.”

“I sure do love it.  You even cut up mushrooms this time,” Keith sighed happily, spending a moment to be totally content and warm.  

He sat up again and stabbed his fork into his plate.  “Cold outside today?”  Keith asked when he was in between swallows.

“Hm?  Not really.  Not as bad as last week.  I couldn’t feel my nose for days.”

Keith snorted.  “I was just wondering.  You were wearing that goony jacket from Disneyland.  I thought you hated it.  It’s like three sizes too big.”

“Lance may’ve over exaggerated the size.”

“You were working out a bit too much for a while there.”

“I didn’t see _you_ complaining about it during that time.”

Keith laughed again, poking his fork at Shiro.  “Stop evading the question.  What’s up with that jacket?”

“You hate it that much?”

Keith jabbed the fork closer to Shiro’s nose.

“Okay, okay.  I don’t know.  It’s growing on me.  I miss Disneyland.  We need to make another trip.”

“Yeaaah,” Keith sighed, rubbing his cheeks with his knuckles.  “It’s busy right now with the holidays and all.”

“It doesn’t have to be now.  We’ll find time,” Shiro shrugged.  “Whenever it works out, it works out.”

Keith nodded, humming, totally forgetting about the jacket because yeah, Shiro wearing a jacket with big Mickey Mouse ears sort of fit him at his dorkiest.  Keith knew all about that side of him.

It was at night, nearly asleep, when Keith thought about it again.  He was clinging to Shiro like he always did, face scrunched up in distress as he fell into fitful sleep, when he jerked awake suddenly.

Shiro grumbled, inhaling sharply.  “Keith?”

“Did you hear that?”  Keith was already rolling out of bed and sneaking his hand beneath their bed frame, wielding a metal bat.

“ _Keith_.”

He was darting out their room and down the stairs.  Every second counted.  If someone was out there, he wouldn’t let them get away.

“ _Keith_!”

But there was nothing.  Just dark blue silence, not a thing out of place.  By the time Shiro reached him, the bat was already held loose in his hand.  He was still frowning around at all the rooms, as still and peaceful as they were.  The only thing agitated was Keith.

“What’d you hear?”  Shiro asked, holding his arms out for Keith, face tense with concern.  He grabbed the bat from Keith’s hand and let it rest against the wall.

Keith let out a sharp sigh, pressing his finger to his brow.  “Must’ve been dreaming it.  I swear I heard something.  Like a crash or...  I don’t know.  Must be stress from work.”

“Come here,” Shiro shushed him as he gathered Keith up into his arms.  He rocked them back and forth for a moment, humming to him as he rubbed his cheek against Keith’s hair.  “I’ve got you.  You’re okay.”

“I’m not _sick_ , Shiro,” he grumbled, but he let himself be held, nestling his head into the crook of Shiro’s neck.

“Of course you’re not.  But you are cold.  It’s snowing outside and you’re in only your boxers.”

“So are _you_.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not the little icicle boy.  Come here.”  He tossed Keith up into his arms so he could hold him bridal style.  It was easy.  Keith was all muscle, but he was still small in comparison to Shiro.  “Back to bed.  And usually I’m the light sleeper.”

“I know,” Keith hummed, resting his head back onto Shiro.  “I was dreaming though.  I think.”

“There, there.”

 

Maybe it had just been a weird day.  Keith was determined to force the next day back into normalcy.  He was so uneasy about it all that he even got himself to apologize to Lance.  He made it through the entire day of work without snapping at anyone.  It was quite the feat.

He wouldn’t skip his yoga though, so when he got home, he turned on the t.v. and started it up.  

The front door creaked halfway through his video again.  It clicked quietly to a close.  Carefully, too carefully.

Keith’s mouth twisted.

Oh, no.  Not today too.  He sprung out of the room and down the hallway, nearly barreling right into Shiro wearing his dorky jacket again.  

“Keith!”  He said with that same tone of surprise.

“I live here,” Keith rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms.  “What are you up to?”

“Just walking,” Shiro said, eyes too widely innocent and his smile too glittering.  It was his Public Face smile, the one he used when he was nervous.  It wasn’t Keith’s smile.

He frowned harder, crossing his arms and tilting his head.  “You’re acting strange.”  He looked Shiro over suspiciously.  “Why are you holding yourself that way?”

“What way?”  Too innocent.  He blinked his eyelashes like a baby fawn.

“ _Strangely_.”  

Keith took a step forward.

Shiro took a step backward.

Keith’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.

Shiro laughed nervously.  

“Uhhh,” Shiro laughed breathily.  “I erm, got my jacket dirty.  I don’t want to get you dirty too.”

“It looks fine.  Besides,” Keith said, holding his arms out wide, which were glistening in sweat already.  “I’m probably dirtier than you are.”

“Yeah, you’re totally sweating.  Showertime for you.”  He squeaked suddenly in surprise, literally jumping into the air.

Keith narrowed his eyes on Shiro, who couldn’t face Keith anymore and looked away, guilty smile pulled tight and too-wide.  

“What was that?”  

“Uh.  Thought I saw a spider.”

Keith’s eyebrows disappeared into his bangs.  “A spider?”

Shiro was the household’s designated spider capturer.  He even had a net specifically for moments like these.  He hated whenever Keith tried to squish them.

There was no spider and Keith knew it.

“I’m going to figure out what you’re hiding,” Keith muttered lowly, prowling around him like a panther, his eyes dark with ember.  “And I’m going to do it soon.”

Shiro let out another nervous laugh.

Keith watched him for a moment longer before turning on his heel to get back to his yoga.  It was supposed to relax him.  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  But when he heard Shiro softly padding down the hallway, steps guilty and downtrodden, Keith felt his blood pressure spike.

Shiro was going to the garage.  Whatever it was he was hiding had to do with that garage.

Keith groaned internally at the thought of having to go in there.  Was it even worth it at that point?  He hated it in there.  Keith liked everything pristine and in tight order.  If the wrenches weren’t just so, what was the _point_?  And Shiro tried to respect that, but he was always more worried about the work he was putting into his projects, not trying to organize the tools, so sometimes things went out of place.

“It’s organized chaos,” Shiro tried to explain one time.

Keith despaired.

He couldn’t look at it anymore.  It hurt him.  He just avoided it completely.

When Shiro left for work the next morning, Keith took his chance and opened the garage door, flicking the light on and glaring inside.  

And...he stopped.  The place wasn’t half bad, not how he remembered it.  Shiro was trying.  The tool box was fairly organized - enough to see everything at least - and all the tools they had were hung up on the wall, not left out.  

It was an improvement and Keith found himself impressed and oddly touched.  He’d never believed Shiro when he said he’d cleaned it.  Keith had clearly been a fool.

But he needed to focus, so he went through everything, trying to find out Shiro’s secret.

He dug through the cabinets, the boxes, the Christmas storage.  He even looked beneath the tools in the tool box.

There was nothing.  Nothing at all.  If anything, it was cleaner than before and that wasn’t a red flag, that was something to thank Shiro for.

He went to work exhausted and confused.

Two hours of yoga.  He could handle that physically.  Probably.  He needed it emotionally at least.

He made dinner really quickly afterward - mac and cheese, which he hated, but Shiro loved, so what could you do? - and set it out for the both of them.

Shiro came into the door, swinging it widely and sighing.  “Hey,” he said, looking up at Keith as he pulled off his shoes.  “I’m home.”

“Hey,” Keith said, but it sounded like a question.  “What’s wrong?”

“Oh.”  Shiro sighed.  “Nothing.”

“...Nothing?”  Keith bit his lip.  “I made dinner.”

“Thanks, Keith,” Shiro mustered a smile and fell into his seat, scooting his sleeves up.

“No Mickey Mouse jacket today,” Keith noted, looking at it tossed on the back of the couch.

“No...”

Keith hummed, biting his lip.  Shiro was moping, but there was agitation beneath the surface, bright and buzzing.  Keith frowned.

“I’ll be right back,” Keith muttered, scraping the chair back and walking to the hallway.  “Bathroom.”

“‘Kay.”

Keith closed the bathroom door and turned, pressing his ear against the door.  He waited.  And there it was.  The soft click of the front door.   Shiro murmured something softly, soothingly, and then it closed again, just as gently.

Keith continued to wait.  When a good amount of time passed and there was no more suspicious movement, he kicked the toilet handle to flush and then washed his hands.

Shiro looked up from a spoonful of orange.  “What’s up?  Stomachache?”

“This goo doesn’t sit well in my stomach,” he griped, pulling his chair back.  

Shiro chuckled, but his smile was sympathetic.  “Want me to get some ginger tea started?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, subtly trying to look for signs around the house for anything different, anything at all.  There was nothing.

The two hours of yoga had helped, but he could feel the tension still built up behind his eyes.  If he did a third hour, he’d probably throw his back out by tomorrow.  If he didn’t do it, he’d probably throw Lance out the window tomorrow.  He couldn’t decide which was the better option.

Shiro disrupted his thoughts by asking about his day.  They chatted for awhile, and that unwound the knot in Keith’s chest well enough.  Shiro gathered their dirty dishes and that helped even more.  

“So,” Shiro said from the kitchen.  “Matt wanted to come over on Friday.  His car needs some work in the shop or something; I told him he could.  Is that alright?”

“Matt’s Matt.  You tell him no and he’ll come anyway.”

Shiro laughed,  “True, but I like to pretend we have some power at our own house.”

Keith tossed himself from the table and walked into the kitchen.  He grabbed a towel from the counter and began to dry what Shiro washed.  Shiro smiled brightly at him as he handed the plates over.  

He pressed his lips together tightly and frowned.  “Hey, Shiro?”

Shiro hummed happily.  “Hey, Keith.”

He mulled over his word choice but it didn’t sound better no matter how he said it so he just came out with it: “Are we alright?”

Shiro choked, slipping forward and punching the faucet off with a loud clunk.  “ _What_?”

“Like...are we good?”

“Of course we are, Keith,” Shiro blinked at him, eyes wide in genuine confusion.  They were tinged in a bit of horror as he turned to Keith, all which comforted Keith a little.  At least it wasn’t that.  He could live with anything else but that.  

Keith nodded, taking in a deep breath and going back to buffing out the next plate.

“Are we not?”  Shiro was sweating bullets.  He still hadn’t turned the water back on.  “Why would you ask that...?”

“Oh, no, I wasn’t thinking it or anything.  I just...”  He trailed off, too afraid to ask.

Shiro seemed to get it anyway, understanding flooding his eyes all at once.  And then hesitance.  And then he was wincing.  “Ah...  It’s not that.  It’s nothing like that.”

“Then -”

“It’s just...”

Keith waited, watching Shiro’s face intently.  When he didn’t say anything more, Keith prompted, “It’s just...?”

Shiro groaned, his face scrunching up in absolute stuck misery.

Keith, being a sucker for Shiro, couldn’t see him suffer, even if it meant waiting it out for awhile longer would get him some answers.

He sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head onto Shiro’s shoulder.  “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yeah.  It’s not dangerous, is it?”

“No.  Not at all.”  Relief was bleeding into Shiro’s voice and it made Keith feel guilty somehow.

“Good.”  Keith leaned up on the tips of his toes for a kiss and Shiro happily complied.  

Shiro flicked the water off his fingers and dried them. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?  Join me?”

“Yeah.  In a sec.  I’ve got to clean the counters off a bit.”

“Oh, let me do that.”

“Nah, I’ve got it.  Go.  I’ll be right there.”

“‘Kay.”  Shiro leaned down to kiss the top of Keith’s head and then walked upstairs.

Keith wiped the counters off, eyes open, waiting for the sound of the bathroom door to close.

When it did, he walked toward the front door, keeping his eye up above to make sure Shiro wouldn’t surprise him by coming back down.

Keith unlocked it and opened it, slipping outside.  

It was freezing, the kind of cold that cut into you, sharp as a knife.  

He hissed, clinging to his arms in a feeble attempt to stop the wind’s harsh chill.  Snow was being tossed this way and that in his face.

There was nothing that he could see.  Their planter was still shoved in the corner of their doorway, completely unassuming.  Their car was parked out near the sidewalk, buried beneath snow.  That was a problem for tomorrow.

Whatever Shiro had been doing left no trace behind.  

Keith frowned, giving up, when he saw a cat staring at him from the end of their driveway.

Keith hated the thought of having to take in an animal.  Shiro longed for it, of course, loving everything as he did, but Keith just wasn’t ready.  Sometimes he felt he could rarely take care of himself let alone any other creature whether it be child or cat.  They deserved better than Keith’s clumsy attempts at care.

But it was too cold.  Weather like this was worse than whatever damage Keith could do, and he found he just couldn’t say no.

He knelt down to his knees, holding his hands out, “come here,” he tried to entice it over.  God, Shiro would’ve been so much better for this.  “Come on, it’s okay.  It’s warm in here.”

It took one more look at him before turning sharply and running the other way.  

“Wait,” he grumbled, “we’ve got tuna!”  It didn’t care.  Keith tilted his head to see if he could spot it again.  He couldn’t.  It was fast.  It was gone.

After their shower, Keith spent the rest of the night at the couch near the window, trying to focus on the book in his hand, but really just watching out for another sighting of that cat.  And when he wasn’t thinking about that he was worrying about what Shiro might be hiding.  His head was a mess.

“How much yoga are you going to do today?”  Shiro looked up from watching t.v. as Keith walked past him toward the yoga room.

“I’m just a little tense.  Might be the weather.”

“Don’t hurt yourself...”

“You could join me,” Keith offered, but he knew the answer before it came.

“Mind if I watch?”

“Of course not, silly,” Keith hummed, holding out his hand for Shiro, who took it, grinning up at him.

Shiro talked with him as he moved through the poses, feeling as his back slowly unwound.  It was nice.  Keith was able to forget the world for awhile.

He didn’t find the cat though.

 

Friday came.  Shiro was still wearing his overlarge Mickey jacket and walking past Keith’s yoga lessons again like they weren’t something beautiful and alluring.  

Keith took deeper longer breaths and tried to practice the art of letting go.

When Matt was at the door, knocking, Keith didn’t even bother to visit with him like he usually did.  He liked Matt.  He was a good friend of Shiro’s and had become a good friend of Keith’s.  But he was tired and he was grumpy and the mystery of whatever Shiro was doing was getting to him.  He knew he had said it was fine, but he figured Shiro would talk about it sooner or later and now it was starting to feel like later, much much later.

There was a knock on the doorframe.  

“Uhh...you alright there?  I didn’t realize you were a human pretzel.”

Keith sighed, tilting his head to look over, following his video still.  “Hey, Matt.”

“Hey, Keith.  Shiro was ordering pizza.  What do you want?”

“Whatever you guys want is fine.”

“I like pineapple pizza, remember.”

Keith laughed softly.  “Yeah.”

“Why are you a ball on the ground?  Shiro driving you that crazy?”

“It’s yoga, you should try it sometime.  It’d be good for nerds like you.  And yeah, he’s been driving me kinda crazy.”

Matt laughed.  “Ah, marital bliss.  I’m so jealous.”

Keith pulled himself up, brushing his hair from his eyes.  “Hey.  Do you know what he’s been up to lately?”

“Work?”  Matt’s eyes were totally clear and confused.  He had nothing.

“Yeah, let’s hope,” Keith grunted, rolling onto the balls of his feet and positioning himself for the next pose.

When the pizza came, Keith couldn’t resist any longer.  He wobbled down the hallway and into the living room, sitting down beside Shiro.  

“Hey, you,” Shiro greeted warmly, wrapping an arm around Keith’s shoulders and pulling him in closely.  

“I’m sweaty, you know.”

“I don’t care,” Shiro said pleasantly, tugging him in closer.

Keith hummed, closing his eyes and leaning his cheek against Shiro’s collar bone.

“I thought you said you were fighting,” Matt said.  “I’d hate to see what happens when you get _really_ angry.  A one hour cuddle session?”

“We’re not fighting,” Keith rolled his eyes.  

He opened his mouth to say something more, but was cut off by his own sneeze.  It was explosive and powerful, followed by three more in quick succession.  Keith and Shiro looked on, cringing.

“God,” he muttered, nose stuffed.  His face was getting red and puffy.  “I’m sorry.  Allergies.”

“You’re allergic to everything,” Shiro chuckled, but he was biting his lip in worry.  

“Yeah, but your house is usually fine...”

“Need Benadryl?”

“Maybe.”  He sneezed hard again into the crook of his arm.

Not even a half hour later and he was an even worse snotty mess.  He looked more like a monster than a boy.  

“Here,” Shiro said, seriously concerned.  “I’m driving you home.  I can pick you up tomorrow before work and drive you to the shop, okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Matt sneezed, dabbing at his red watery eyes with a towel.  “Katie’s got her car and she’s closer.  I’ll force her to take me.  I dunno what the deal is.  I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“We’ll, uh, vacuum next time,” Keith promised.

“You guys don’t have to do that.  Thanks for the pizza.  See you later, Keith,” he said, going out the door.

“See you in a bit, okay?”  Shiro said, swooping down for a quick kiss before following Matt out.

Keith looked back toward the garage door.  It was quiet without Shiro.  The perfect time for detective work.  But boy, was he tired...  He shook his head and walked upstairs, getting ready for bed.

His foot was on the first step when he heard a crash in the garage.

Finally.

Kicking into action, he grabbed the bat and power-walked down the hallway, bursting through the garage door.  His hair flung as he turned his head, scouring the room.  

At first, he saw nothing.  But then...

He lowered the bat and sighed.

 _Shiro_.

 

He was sleeping in their bed when he heard Shiro get home and pad around the house softly, trying his best to be quiet.  Keith was floating through half-sleep when he felt Shiro’s weight dip into the bed.  He leaned over Keith and snuzzled his nose into Keith’s neck.

Keith groaned, half-heartedly trying to push him away.  “Your nose is freezing.”

Shiro pulled back, feeling the end of his nose.  “Huh.  I just took a shower too.”  The blankets were shuffled to the side before Shiro slipped in and fitted himself against Keith’s back.  Keith hummed, leaning into it, letting Shiro kiss down his open neck.  

But Shiro stopped early, heaving a sigh that tickled Keith’s face.  “I want to talk.  About what I’ve been up to lately.”

“‘M tired.  Let’s do it tomorrow.”

“What?  But you’ve been so -”

“It’s fine.  You said it wasn’t dangerous, right?  I trust you.  I was dumb to question it earlier.”

Shiro sighed again.  “I shouldn’t have lied to you.  It’s been eating at me.  You wouldn’t be sneaking around behind my back...  It’s not right of me to -”

“Go the heck to bed,” Keith grumbled, reaching blindly behind himself to pat Shiro’s arm in what he hoped was at least vaguely comforting.  “I’ll still be here in the morning if you’re lucky.”

Shiro snorted, settling back in.  “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.  Now go to sleep.”

“Mmkay.”  

They both settled into slumber.

 

The next morning, Shiro woke to an empty half of the bed.  His arms were strewn out in front of him, cold and grasping at sheets.

He rubbed his eyes blearily, frowning.  “Keith?”

Silence answered.

He huffed out a yawn and grumbled to himself.  “ _Keith_?”

There wasn’t even the sound of the stove’s blower to give him an excuse of not being able to hear.  Nor was there the dull buzz of the bathroom fan.  

Perplexed but not yet worried, Shiro swung his legs over the side of the bed and heaved himself up.  It was hard getting up this quickly on weekends.  It was his rare time to cuddle with his husband and pepper the right amount of kissers that Keith deserved all over his small fiesty little body.

Seeking him out, he shoved on some fluffy slippers and a robe and padded his way down the staircase.  

“ _Keith_ ,” he groaned, rubbing at his eyes.  “Where _are you_?”  

His eyes slipped over the empty kitchen and their quiet living room.  He checked the door and saw only one pair of shoes there - his.

He frowned, pace quickening as he reached for the door.  It was snowing outside and road conditions weren’t safe.  Keith drove much like he did everything else - temper first, rationality later.  He was not afraid of the snow, but Shiro was.

Shiro could feel himself getting angry already as he tossed the door open, letting the cold burst in and cut into him.  He stepped outside, not entirely sure where he was going to go in fluffy slippers, when he saw Keith walking up the sidewalk, toward him.  He had a thick jacket and hat on, covered in snow.  

“Where did you just go?”  Shiro asked gruffly, leaving the porch and running down.

Keith looked up at him and huffed out a laugh.  “ _Shiro_ , get back inside.  You’re in your _robe_.”

“You left without saying anything in this storm!  What’s your problem?  After you just said last night you’d still be there when I woke up.  Why would you do that?”

Keith huffed, shoving Shiro back toward their open door.  “You’re such a drama queen.  I had to get something.  Go back inside.”

“Tell me where -”

“- I will.  Just go back inside and let me get something out of the trunk.  It’s not like I’m the only one who ever sneaks around, hm?”

Shiro frowned, understanding immediately he’d lost that battle.  With a disgruntled sigh, he stepped back inside, but he didn’t close the door yet, watching Keith, letting the relief fully flood him now that he knew for sure he was alright.  “I was _worried_.”

“I know, I know.  I’m alright, okay?  I just went around the corner.”

“There’s a lot of snow.”

“We have chains.  Come on.  Move it.”

Shiro closed the door and sighed to himself.  He kicked off his sopping wet slippers and went to grab a new pair of socks.  By the time he went back downstairs, Keith had dragged something inside and was waiting next to it, in the living room.  It was a large present.

“What’s this?”  Shiro frowned.  “Christmas was days ago.”

“You’re really complaining about more presents?”  Keith snorted.  He patted it.  “Merry second Christmas.”

Shiro eyed him suspiciously.  “Why is it so tall?”

“More to love.”

A small smile was breaking through his grumpy facade.  “I was _worried_ , you know.  I woke up and you were _gone_.”

“I wanted to do something for you.”

“For me?”

“For this guy,”  Keith said fondly, stabbing his finger at Shiro’s chest.  

Shir frowned in confusion.  “My...?”

“Your _heart,”_ Keith rolled his eyes, smiling.

Their eyes locked and warmth blossomed between them, full of love, loud and clear.  Shrugging his shoulders back in embarrassment, Keith was the first one to look away.  A faint dusting of pink glowed on his cheeks, something Shiro didn’t get to see as much now that their relationship had eased.  He had missed it.  

Shiro was confused, but he was charmed too, the rest of whatever anger and worry he had felt earlier washing away into a wide ocean.  

Shiro placed a hand on the present and then stopped.  “...Wait.  Wait, I’ve got to say something.

“I want to tell you about what I’ve been doing.”  

He took in a deep breath, avoiding Keith’s eyes.  “It’s...stupid.  I was walking out of my office building to get something for lunch, when I saw a box on the sidewalk in the snow, discarded like trash.  I went to go clean it up when I heard the sound of small little scratches coming from inside.  So I looked in...there were kittens in there, Keith.  Five baby kittens.  Meowing so softly, huddled together for warmth.  You know how cold it gets outside.  Someone had abandoned them out there - to die!   I know you said no cats, but...  I couldn’t leave them.  They looked up at me with their tiny little eyes and their sweet whiskers.  I couldn’t.”

He rubbed the back of his nose, unable to look at Keith.  “...And then, I was grocery shopping the other day when I noticed an employee was struggling to take out the trash, so I helped them throw it out in the back alleyway.  And I turn around and there were two cats there, looking up at me, hungry.  They were small and starved, Keith, just sitting on a disgusting cardboard box.  They were really in a bad way.  So I...I might’ve brought them home too.”

He wrinkled his nose.  “And then, another day -”

“Stop,” Keith said wearily, holding his hand up.  “Just stop it.  I already knew.”

“What?”

“They’ve been living in the garage.  You’re not exactly good at hiding things.  You were carrying them in your jacket for crying out loud.  I know you don’t have a kitten-shaped tumor.”

“Oh.”

“How many cats?’

“Uh....”

“Shiro.”

He grimaced.  “...A lot.  I’m really sorry.  I know we’ve talked about animals and you said you weren’t ready.  I respect that, I do, and I don’t want to go against your wishes.  ...But they’re lost and alone and cold out there and I just couldn’t leave them...  It’s snowing so hard.  When the storm is over,  I will drive over to the local no-kill shelter and make sure they find some nice homes.  But they need me right now, Keith.  They’re trusting me and I want to help them.”

Keith pressed his lips together tightly, watching him.  Finally, he patted the present.

“Open it,” Keith murmured, walking up into Shiro’s space and taking his hand.  He leaned against his shoulder, nodding toward the present.

Shiro frowned at the topic change.  “Um?  But I?”

Keith nodded toward it again, eyebrow arched.

“Okay.”  

He pulled the bow off and found the seam.  It was an awkward size.  Shiro carefully unwrapped it, brow furrowed in curiosity.

And then he saw it.  

Tall, dark, and handsomly crafted, it was a cat tower.  Well, technically.  Someone who never owned a cat might’ve called it a cat hotel instead.  There were ropes, caves, and soft beds.  A few collars were tied to each perch, some with bells and tags.  Of course there were toys and treats.

Shiro gasped, covering his mouth with his hand.  “ _Keith_ ,” he said, eyes wide and filled with wonder as if Keith had just given him the world.  

“I saw the cats the other day,” Keith said.  “Some of them, at least.  I think they’re bored out there.  Maybe we need a little doggy door so they could come inside too.  Or...kitty door.”

Shiro turned to him, bright eyed.  “You mean it?”

He nodded, small smile on his lips.  “It obviously means a lot to you and...they’re pretty cute.  As long as they don’t start shredding up the furniture...”

“They won’t,” Shiro said eagerly, leaning down to pick Keith up by the waist.  His eyes were glittering stars.  “I used to have cats growing up; they’re very independent.  I’ll take care of everything, I swear.  You won’t have to do a single thing.  Thank you, Keith.   _Thank you_.”

“I’ll help too,” Keith basically purred at the attention, laughing as Shiro snuggled into him.  He wrapped his arms around Shiro’s head and pet his hair happily.  “It’ll be good practice for a kid.  A step in the right direction anyway.”

Shiro blinked, stopping mid-sway.  He pulled his head back and stared Keith in the face.  “Kid?”

Keith went beet-red.  “Wh-What?  It’s not like we haven’t ever talked about kids before.  I don’t mean right _now_ .  I just mean...baby steps.”  He sniffed.  “But, uh, not like a _real_ baby doing the steps.  Not right now.  Later, but I-I’m not ready...yet.  But someday.”

Shiro watched Keith stammering around in wonder, unable to stop the sense of amazement that coursed through his heart.  A big smile broke across his face.  “Okay!”

Keith sputtered.  “O-okay?  Okay for what?”

“Whatever you want.  We’ll do whatever you want.  I owe you, after all.”

“Oh, no, not again with the owing.”  Keith wrapped his arms comfortably around Shiro’s neck, who walked them over to the couch and slouched down into it.  

“Well, let’s pay the debt right now.  What do you want?  Anything.”

“Hmm...anything?”  Keith’s delicate long fingers skimmed lightly over Shiro’s shirt.  He lowered his voice.  “I think I might know...”

Shiro hummed knowingly deep in his throat.  “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah...”  Keith got up and tossed a leg over Shiro’s lap, straddling him.  He slid his fingers over Shiro’s shoulders and leaned in slowly, brushing his lips against Shiro’s cheek.  

He pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his ear.  “Yoga with me.  For a week.”

“Yoga?!”  Shiro squawked.  “For a week?”

“Everyday!”  Keith hopped off his lap and tugged him off the chair.  “Let’s start right now.”

Shiro let out a soft groan, tossing his head back and laughing fondly.  He let himself be dragged down the hallway into Keith’s yoga room.  Their yoga room, now.  “Okay, okay.  We can do yoga together.”

“I knew you’d finally see things my way,” Keith grinned brightly, turning on the t.v.  “There are so many different moves I’ve wanted to try.”  He turned, eyeing Shiro’s arm as if he were measuring.  “...Too bad you weren’t Mickey Mouse jacket size though.”

Shiro snorted.  “Maybe for you I’ll get there again.”

“Wow,” Keith laughed.  “I should’ve let you bring cats home much sooner.  This is proving very beneficial for the both of us.”

“Come here, you,” Shiro grumbled, moving in playfully and grabbing Keith into a hug.  They rolled to the ground, landing on the yoga mat with a good solid thud.  They were laughing and grabbing at each other, a tumbled mess on the floor.

“Oh,” Keith breathed out pleasantly as Shiro rolled on top of him, pinning him effectively.  “This is like one of the poses I wanted to try.”

Shiro snorted, his face crinkling.  “Really?”

Keith nodded, eye glinting wickedly.  

“Guess _I_ should’ve started yoga with you sooner then.”

“I have a feeling you’re going to like it,” Keith hummed playfully.

There was a loud scratching noise from the hallway that caught both of their attention.  They looked up.

“Our new family,” Shiro grinned.  

Keith nodded toward the door.  “Go get ‘em.”

“Yeah?”  He was already up and out the door before Keith could say another word.  Two seconds later, a stampede of kittens ran down the hallway, some making a detour into the yoga room.

Keith yelped, not sure how to handle cats.  Shiro stepped in carefully, avoiding flying soft balls of cat on the ground.  

“They like you,” he breathed in pure elation, watching as two of them tried to climb up Keith’s lap.

“ _Ow_ ,” Keith cringed.  “Their nails are _sharp_ .  They’re scaling my leg, that’s my _flesh_.”

“Come here, little one,” Shiro laughed softly, gently sweeping the cat into his hands.  “I’ve already named them.  Want to hear?”

“Sure,” Keith said, hesitantly leaning in and reaching out a slow hand.  The kitten nuzzled up to his fingers and he eased into petting it.  It started to purr and he eased into it even more.  

“This one’s Pidge Jr..  She’s feisty.”

“Pidge Jr.?”  Keith snorted, looking at the honey-colored fur.  “And let me guess,” he laughed, picking up a black little one, “this one is Keith Jr.?”

Shiro blushed, hunching his shoulders a bit.  “Uh...”

“No way,” Keith laughed.  “Really?”

“It looks like you?”  Another cat ran past with a black body and white head and Shiro pointed it out.  “That one’s Shiro Jr.”

“ _God_.”

“He and Keith Jr. get along really well.”

Keith groaned.  “I can’t believe you named them all after us.  What a sap.”

“Hmm...”  Shiro smiled softly as he pet Keith Jr. gently.  “But I’m _your_ sap.”

“That you are,” Keith said, so content.  He crawled up to Shiro so that they were thigh-to-thigh, in each other’s warmth.  They watched the tiny kittens wobbling around the house, warm, clean, and fed because of Shiro.  Keith couldn’t ask for a kinder husband.  His heart swelled with pride.  “I love you,” he said.  It wasn’t so much a declaration as it was a fact.  “And I love our new little family.”

Shiro nudged Keith gently with his elbow, leaning in.  “ _Thank you_ for doing this.  I know I’ve been so shady.  I was just afraid after our last conversation...  But I can see I had nothing to worry about.”

“Next time you’ll owe me an entire year’s worth of yoga.”

“Is that so?”

“Damn straight.”

“And that’s supposed to be a punishment?”

Keith laughed, rolling to his toes to restart the video.  They worked on it the best they could, but with their new additions to their household, it was a bit of a challenge.  

They’d work on it.  They had forever, after all.

  


**Author's Note:**

> P.S. And poor Matt never came over again...
> 
> So you know in Fullmetal Alchemist where Al would hide kittens in his armor because he felt bad for them? I thought that was the sweetest dang thing a character could do. Al is so pure and so is Shiro.
> 
> Chat with meeeeee? (づ￣ ³￣)づ  
> https://twitter.com/go__begreat


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